


I didn't mean it

by theUntitled



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Don't Read This, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:57:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theUntitled/pseuds/theUntitled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Tazer wishes he could just take back what he said, before it's too late</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1

              

       There were five minutes left on the clock, and the Kings were leading the Hawks by one goal. It was the seventh game of the first round of the Stanley Cup playoffs. Jonny could see his breath amidst the cool air of the rink. He was beyond frustrated. Sharpy had hit two shots off the pipes and Shawzie could not find the net for the life of him. Jonny himself couldn’t capitalize either. However, Kaner was the main cause of his frustration. The kid just wouldn’t listen. All he did was throw saucer passes across the ice and try to dangle his way to the net. And Jonny was open the whole time! He had yelled at him over and over, but Kaner just wouldn’t listen. _Selfish fucking douchebag_ , Jonny thought to himself.

        Johnny got ready to take the faceoff. He quickly glanced over at Hossa and Saad to make sure they were ready, but neither of them made eye contact. It was evident that everyone was upset. Winning the faceoff, Jonny passed the puck to Hossa and skated to the upper left side of the goal. With three quick passes from Duncs and Seabsie, Jonny had possession of the puck again. While weaving his way through Kopitar and Richards, he passed to Saad who was in front of the goal. Yet for Jonny, plans never went his way. Drew Doughty came out of nowhere and laid Saad out. _Dammit_. And who would replace him? Coach Q put in Kaner. _Well fuck, now we’ll never get anything done._

        “You better fucking cooperate,” warned Jonny.

        “Go fuck yourself Tazer, I’ll get it done,” Kaner snapped back.

        There were only two minutes left on the clock now. The Hawks won the faceoff again, and in a split second, Hossa sniped on through Quick’s five-hole, and the score was tied. For Jonny and Pat however, they did not appear to be congratulating each other on the bench. They were at the point of shouting at each other when Coach Q finally sent them out for the last forty-five seconds of the game. Jonny wanted this win more than anyone. He _needed_ this win. It was his responsibility as captain to lead his team through victory, and he was prepared to do that in whatever way possible. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. It was now or never.

        Jonny stared into Dustin Brown’s eyes, an intimidating glare that would send most people running. The puck dropped and both of them fought tooth and nail for the pass. Although the Kings won the faceoff, Duncs was able to intercept their attack and chip it along the boards to Hossa. There were thrity seconds left. Hossa passed it to Kane. Twenty-five seconds left. _C’mon Kaner pass the fucking puck._ Twenty seconds left. In the corner of his eye, Jonny could see Clifford gaining speed for something, but Jonny couldn’t worry about it now. In fact, he took things into his own hands. The whole arena was screaming at this point. Fifteen seconds were left. Jonny swooped the puck from Kaner, and with a quick wrist shot, went bar-down on Quick. Just like that, Chelsea Dagger began to play. Jonny was estatic and proud and full of excitement. He then noticed that in the midst of the celebration, the arena had quieted down. He turned around and his stomach dropped.

        In the middle of the right hand faceoff circle, Kaner lay face down on the ice, blood seeping from his curly blonde hair. The referee was calling for a doctor. He was competely motionless, resembling a ragged chew toy. Jonny felt as if he couldn’t breathe. His chest caved in, and his blood rushed to his head all at once. Slowly he skated over to him. _No no no no no. Not this- no. C’mon Kaner get up you asshole. C’mon, I gotta yell at you little guy. Kaner just move. Please buddy, just move for me. I didn’t mean what I said. Please. Don’t- just please._ Nothing happened. A stretcher was brought out onto the ice and a team of trainers fitted Kaner for a neck brace before hoisting him up on the stretcher. His eyelids didn’t flicker and his fingers didn’t twitch. Jonny couldn’t move or breathe or speak. The arena was silent. Jonny felt Sharpy’s arm around his back guiding him across the ice and into the dressing room. For it was Sharp’s job, as alternate captain, to take over when the captain was in no position to lead.

        It was 2 A.M. but Jonny refused to leave the hospital. Pat had been in surgery for almost three hours, and since Jon wasn’t biologically related, he couldn’t receive any information. His eyes drooped as he sat in the wooden chair of the emergency waiting room. The flourescent lights burned his eyes and the sounds of beeping heart monitors and rolling wheelchairs filled his ears. To kill time, he mentally killed Cliffford a thousand different ways in his head. _That motherfucker is going to fucking die next time I see his face._ But it was the fact that Jonny had yelled at Kaner that bothered him most. He just wanted a do-over. He didn’t even care about the win. He didn’t care about the next playoff round. In fact, he couldn’t give a shit right now about the Stanley Cup. He just kept seeing Pat face down on the ice.

        Finally, at 7 A.M. Jonny was able to see Pat, and he walked into his room. It was painted creamy white and had pictures of flowers on all four walls. A television set in the upper corner played some daytime show, but other than that, the room was silent. Kaner’s eyes were lightly closed, as if he’d been sleeping. His hands were by his sides curled slightly and his legs were outstretched. Jonny could make out a gash that stretched from his left eyebrow to his hairline, and it was lined with dried blood. Jonny took his warm hand in his and squeezed it tight. There was no reaction from Pat.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2

        Patrick hadn’t woken up from his coma yet, but Tazer had things to take care of as captain. The first, and probably the most painstaking, was the media. He had four press conferences today and none of them seemed appealing. It was so mundane that Tazer realized he only had to say a few lines to keep the media satisfied. _We really got pucks to the net_ , and _Crow with the big saves_ , and his personal favorite, _We're just playing our game_. They were so general that half the time he didn’t even listen to the questions.

        However, the media today just wanted to talk about Kaner. Jonny would repeatedly tell them that there were no further updates, but they just kept nagging him. It was as if they knew there was something...special...between them. Well, in fact, there was something special, or at least Jonny liked to think so. Although he rarely showed it, Jonny was always under stress. Pat would come to him after the game and crack some sort of sexual joke, talk about some girl, and rip on some player. It was just so comforting. It was the way his eyes shined on the ice, or the way he would wrap his arms around Jonny and squeeze him for a quick second after they scored a power play goal. It was the way he knew when something was wrong, and how he wouldn’t leave Jonny’s side until he could sense everything was alright. Jonny picked up the phone and started dialing.

        “Hey bro!”

        “David you there?” Jonny for some reason needed to talk to his brother.

        “If I wasn’t there, I wouldn’t have answered...”

        “Uh right. David, he won’t wake up.”

        “Who, Pat? Jesus Christ is it that bad?”

        “He won’t wake up and I don’t know what to do-”

        “Listen,” David interrupted. “The kid is strong. And he’s twisted enough that he will find a way outta this mess, you hear me?”

        “I was so mean to him before this all-”

        “No, Jonny, Pat loves you. For God sakes he won’t ever stop staring at you!”

        “He’ll be okay right?”

        "Yeah, he’s going to get through this.”

        It was around four o’clock and Tazer had walked into the locker room after a second skate. It was quiet, in fact, it was  close to silent in the locker room. Hossa walked up to Sharpy and went over some drills. Duncs and Seabs were discussing workout plans before the second round. And then there was Brandon Saad. He sat in a corner and didn’t move. He didn’t take off his skates or his practice jersey. He just sat there, his eyes glazed over and his breathing slow.

        “Man-Child, you doing okay?” Tazer jokingly laughed. It was the first time he must have smiled since the accident.

        “Huh? Oh yeah, I’m just- I’m fine.” He paused for a moment. “You know what? I’m not fine. No one here is fine. And you of all people, you shouldn’t be dealing with leading and the media and double practices. You need to take care of your Goddamn self once in awhile,” Brandon exclaimed.

        “Uh, Brandon,” Jonny didn’t even know what to say. He had never heard him speak so reverently before. Brandon’s eyes were wide and dilated as if he had awoken a bear. “Brandon, wanna get something to eat?”

        “Yeah, okay sure, that’s- that sounds good.”

        The whole situation was awkward. Brandon avoided eye contact with Tazer, probably because he just accused him of some lovestruck martyr. They made small talk and discussed Coach Q’s plan of action. Tazer finally got to the point.

        “I need to stay busy okay? It’s the only way I can- handle things.”

        “Well if you need any help, I know I’m just a rookie, but I’m always here.”

        Jonny smiled. “I can’t ask anymore of you right now. Brandon, by you playing your game and and just being there, that’s enough, at least for me. Yeah, things are tough right now. Kaner- he hasn’t woken up and,” Jonny paused. “I’m scared. I’ll admit it. iI can’t lose him. But right now im powerless to do anything. I guess we just have to carry on.”

        It was 11:00 o’clock when Jonny awoke to his phone vibrating against the nightstand next to his bed. He didn’t recognize the number, but he picked it up anyways.

        “Hello?” He said before yawning.

        “Hey I wonder how long it’ll take till I can have a beer.” _Kaner_.

 


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kid awakens

        Pat never took things seriously. Here he was lying in a hospital with a million tubes stuck in his skin, and what does he talk about? He talks about how hot his anesthesiologist was.

        “Seriously, dude this girl was a straight up 10. The things I would do to her,” Pat ranted to Jonny. Jonny had come to the hospital as soon as he heard Pat’s voice on the phone. He really couldn’t care  less about the hot doctor. He just stared at Kaner’s hair, his neck, his arms. He just took it all in. Kaner is okay.

        “Hey bud, take a breath for a moment okay? Just tell me how you’re feeling,” Jonny cut in.

        “Ah fuck you dude, that’s all everyone asks me. You’re my best friend and I wanna tell you about-”

        “You can tell me after, but as your best friend, I gotta make sure you’re okay.”

        “Fine. They said that I don’t have any permanent brain damage as fall as they can tell. They wanna keep me here for a few days just for observation or some shit. Happy?”

        “You have no idea how happy. I thought for a second I lost you. I- I don’t know what I would have done.” Both got quiet for a second. Kaner opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. Finally he spoke up.

        “Jonny, it makes me real happy to hear you say that because whether you like it or not, I love you dude. But Jonny, you don’t need me, man. I’ll always be there, but you don’t need me. You are the most unbelievable captain I’ve ever known and whatever happens, you gotta continue making me proud, okay? Now enough of this. I’ll be back before you know it.” I love you too, more than anything Jonny thought to himself. He smiled for a second until a nurse walked it.

        “I’m sorry but visiting hours are over. You can come back in the morning,” the nurse said in a comforting tone.

        “Bye Jonny, you better be here when I wake up, or else!” Kaner joked.

        “Sure Kaner,” Jonny answered while ruffling Kaner’s hair. He walked out of the hospital room, out the doors, and to his car. A wave a relief came over him, and he drove out of the parking lot.

        It was 2 A.M. and Jonny was dreaming about his rookie year. It was a strange game against a team that didn’t exist. In the dream, Jonny could only shoot glove side no matter how hard he tried to change. The goalie would save it every time. Kaner kept yelling at him and Coach Q was upset. In the background, there was an annoying buzzing sound that got louder and louder. Jonny woke up to realize that the buzzing was his phone on vibrate. He looked at his phone and saw that Sharpy was calling him. He had about a million texts and missed calls. Still groggy and half asleep, he answered the phone. Everything was muffled and Jonny was still thinking about his weird dream, that is, until Sharpy mentioned Kaner.

        “Yea I just saw Kaner, what about him?” Jonny yawned.

         “Jonny, get to the hospital- went wrong- code- not okay.” Jonny couldn’t make out sentences but he heard a few words. His stomach dropped. Sweat poured down his forehead. His mouth went dry. Jumping out of bed, Jonny threw on some clothes, ran down the stairs, sprinted out the door, jumped in his car, and drove to the hospital.

        Jonny practically ran up to the ICU, where Kaner was being held. He couldn’t think; everything was spinning around him. Every two steps Jonny had to remind himself to breathe. As he approached the ICU, he saw Duncs running out to meet him.

        “Duncs, whats going on-” Duncs cut Jonny off by embracing him. His cheeks were red and tears streamed down his face. Betwen staggered breathing, Jonny looked over Duncs, shoulder to see a tall doctor with thick glasses extend two fingers, place them on Patrick’s eyelids, and slowly push them shut.

 


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because sometimes you can't just move on.

        When Jonny was six, his father used to take him fishing. They would spend all day out on a lake near Winnepeg laughing and fooling around. Near the end of the day, just as the sun melted into the depths of the water, Jonny’s dad would say to him, “L'amour fait les plus grandes douceurs et les plus sensibles infortunes de la vie.” _Love makes life’s sweetest pleasures and worst misfortunes._ Eventually, the fishing trips became less frequent, for Jonny’s competitive hockey schedule took up most of his free time. However, Jonny never forgot his father’s words. He vowed to be stoic, because he’d rather protect himself from the worst misfortunes then enjoy the sweetest pleasures. But as always, humans are inately weak when it comes to love.

        For a hospital room, it was awfully loud: the drops of sedative medicine flowing through an IV, the footsteps of nurses walking in and out of the room, the hushed voices of friends, the beeps of far away machines in the hallways, the screams inside a mind of grief, the heartbeat of a man who wished it would stop. David was next to Jonny, it had been three days since, and Jonny had to be hospitalized. David held the hand of his older brother tightly between his two hands. He wasn’t sure just what to say; there really wasn’t anything words could fix. The funeral was tomorrow and somehow David had to wake Jonny from his catatonic-like state so that they could both attend, it was only right.

        The second round had already started, and the hawks had lost badly to the wings with a score of 8-2. It wasn’t quite fair, however; it was like a racing with someone who had a broken legs. They’d had a tribute during the first game, which was only one day after Pat passed away. During the tribute video, Duncs, had softly placed his hands around Seabs’ waist and tears rushed down their faces. The video showed Kaner in his little Sabres jersey as a kid. It showed his footage of his rookie year, h

        Sharpy’s hands shook violently. Coach Q, with staggered breathing and watery eyes, commanded his team to try and skate. That was all he asked. Between periods, he wouldn’t give his usual speeches. He just sat there with his team in complete silence. Brandon excused himself to the bathroom a number of times. He didn’t want the team seeing him cry. They had known Kaner for a much longer time than him and he felt like he shouldn’t be grieving as much. But he couldn’t help it. Everytime he glanced into the mirror to see those three lines on the side of his mullet, he would break down. Crow could barely extend his blocker. He sat in the goal crease with wide eyes just wishing he would be pulled. Even the wings didn’t celebrate much after a goal. A quick fist bump or a nod was enough. Even when the hawks scored their mere two goals, the staduim was quite; no one danced to Chelsea Dagger The handshakes were hard, each member of the wings giving a blackhawk a small hug instead of a handshake. The world was at a stand still. Each person in the building struggled to take a breath.

        Perhaps the end of the game was the hardest. Oduya went straight home, and downed a full glass of whisky. Frolik stayed over at Kruger’s home and sat in silence until they fell asleep. Hossa, Duncs, and Seabs all went home to their wives. And at home, in a twin size bed, sat a little boy named Joey, who kept asking his crying mother, “Mommy, where’s Kane? Why isn’t Kane playing?”

        Two days later, Jonny came out of his trace. David was by his side, holding his hand. In a whisper, Jonny cried, “I wish it were me, not him.”

 


End file.
